


Not Just Dessert

by Azzandra



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Clothed Sex, Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Trans Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert, kink meme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24183097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azzandra/pseuds/Azzandra
Summary: First time is a learning experience for everyone.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc
Comments: 6
Kudos: 75





	Not Just Dessert

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a [prompt](https://fe3h-kinkmeme-light.dreamwidth.org/452.html?thread=29124#cmt29124) on the light kink meme.

Yuri had gotten into the habit of kissing Ashe's cheeks and across the bridge of his nose, professing a fondness for Ashe's freckles. This always made Ashe giggle, because it seemed like such a silly little thing, yet it endeared him to Yuri all the more.

He tended to do it whenever they sat together, kissing or just cuddled close, a small affection to fill any lull in conversation. Ashe didn't mind, though he had noticed it, the same as he'd notice any of Yuri's other little idiosyncrasies: the absent-minded way Yuri's hands were always moving to touch or caress, the way he tilted his head and gave a slow smile, lopsided and warm. 

Ashe was in a particularly content mood that evening. He'd cooked a meal, which they had only just finished, and then they'd curled up on Ashe's sofa, like they usually did; Yuri liked to put his legs in Ashe's lap and prop his back against the sofa's armrest, and from this position it seemed he could sit all night just drinking in the sight of Ashe, touching and kissing at his leisure. Ashe had been uncertain what to do with his hands the first few times this happened, but now he liked resting a hand on Yuri's knee, or an arm around his shoulder to play with his hair. Yuri had such soft hair, that Ashe found himself as fascinated with it as Yuri was with his freckles.

When Yuri's kisses finally found Ashe's mouth, turning from innocent little pecks to a slow, warm press, Ashe inadvertently groaned. Yuri nipped Ashe's lower lip, before pulling back to give him a particularly smug grin.

Ashe, giddy and light-headed, laughed. "You still taste like dessert," he said; Ashe could taste the savory-sweetness of it on his tongue.

"Do I, now?" Yuri quirked an eyebrow. "Such a delicious dessert it was, too."

Yuri's fingers traced a path up along the line of Ashe's throat, stopping under the point of his chin, where with the slightest bit of upward pressure, Yuri tilted Ashe's head back, and angled it perfectly for his purpose.

Ashe thought he was used to this by now, but he grew flustered as he felt Yuri kissing him with intent: hotter and firmer, the kind of kissing that led up to something, more than just for its own sake. Yuri's hands came up to cradle his face, fingers sinking into Ashe's hair and scraping pleasantly, and when he broke off, Ashe felt out of breath.

Yuri watched him with hooded eyes, his smile strange and self-satisfied.

"Wow," Ashe whispered.

"That's sweet," Yuri said, "but it doesn't come close to repaying for that lovely meal you made."

Ashe gave a little breathless laugh at that.

"I don't need repayment--" he started to say, just as Yuri cut him off with a quick kiss.

"Nonsense," Yuri murmured against Ashe's lips, in-between kisses, "you deserve it. Compliments to the cook, and all that. I have something special for you too, tonight."

It was easier, then, for Ashe to let himself get swept up in Yuri's wake, to let Yuri's mouth persuade without words, and his hands touch without shame: playing with Ashe's hair, caressing his cheeks, sliding down his shoulders, and arms. Ashe was more hesitant with his own, but still, his hands found the soft locks of Yuri's hair, fingers carding along its length.

Suddenly Yuri pulled away, and Ashe flailed for a few moments, confused and bereft, before Yuri readjusted his position so he sat in Ashe's lap, straddling his thighs. Ashe looked up, and was met with a mischievous smile on Yuri's part.

"Now," Yuri cooed, syrupy as he cradled Ashe's face, "what shall I do to you?"

"What-- what about you?" Ashe asked, not quite as smooth as he would have liked.

"Oh, don't worry about me, sweetheart," Yuri replied, brushing Ashe's hair back and smoothing it down. "This is about you."

Ashe looked up at Yuri, his beautiful face, his smile that seemed perfect and a bit too well-practiced, and the entire image lodged itself uncomfortably in the pit of Ashe's stomach. "I'd think it was about the both of us," he said.

"Of course it is," Yuri agreed easily.

"So then--what about what I can do for you?" Ashe asked, observing Yuri's expression carefully.

Ashe could always tell when Yuri was putting on an act, because his face was too soft, his smile too pleasant. When Yuri was being genuine, he would roll his eyes, make faces, act purposefully abrasive sometimes; an entire gamut of little gestures and expressions that Ashe had mentally catalogued like only the infatuated could. Now, there was something too deliberate in how Yuri moved, the tone of his voice. Ashe wondered if Yuri even knew he did it, but this was Yuri's Savage Mockingbird face. It was the useful mask he wore when he wanted to maintain the upper hand.

Ashe shied away fractionally as Yuri leaned forward to distract him with his clever mouth again. Yuri noticed, stopped his advance to lock stern gazes with Ashe. 

They stayed like that for long moments.

"Yuri, do you-- actually want to do this? Because it's fine if you don't, I'm just happy for any time we spend together."

It was Yuri who relented, then, sighing explosively, and this time, instead of cradling Ashe's face, he pressed his palms against Ashe's face-- and smooshed his cheeks.

"Ugh. Enough with the doe eyes, already," Yuri grumbled, his carefully crafted expression crumbling into a pout. "You're not supposed to be this nice when I'm trying to have sex with you. It's throwing me off."

Ashe was so startled, he laughed.

"Sorry?" Ashe said. "Actually, I'm not very sorry. I don't want you to feel like you have to put on an act for me, Yuri. If we're going to be-- um-- be together-- like that--" He felt his ears heat up under Yuri's amused scrutiny, but couldn't stop himself from spewing words like a leaky bucket, "If we're going to... You know... If we're going to do that, I'd prefer it was because you want it, too, not just because you think I want--"

Yuri tapped a finger against Ashe's lips, beckoning silence and putting him out of his misery.

"You're just going to continue being insufferably chivalrous throughout this entire thing, aren't you?" Yuri asked.

"I don't see what's wrong with chivalry," Ashe replied. "And-- I love you. I want to take care of you. And keep you safe. Even from me, if that's necessary."

Yuri blinked in the face of such declaration, and Ashe thought that for once, he might have been lost for words. Instead, Yuri leaned forward, slowly, and planted a chaste kiss on Ashe's forehead, completely at odds with his overtures earlier.

"You're adorable." Yuri's smile seemed sad as he said it. "But I can take care of myself."

"I know you can. And you take care of a lot of other people besides. But..." Ashe looked at Yuri again, his perfect make-up and delicate features, and knew there was a person hardened by life underneath it all. He reached up to brush a lock of hair out of Yuri's eyes, trace fingers hesitantly along the side of his face. Ashe's fingers were callused, and he knew they must have felt rough against Yuri's smooth skin. 

"You want to take care of me, Ashe?" Yuri purred. It was teasing, but there was no pretense to his voice anymore. It was all Yuri's genuine mischief in it. 

Ashe could feel the blush rising to his face.

"I mean-- if you want me to--" he stammered.

It was all the permission Yuri needed to pull Ashe into a kiss again, hot and demanding. All he could really muster was a few incoherent noises as Yuri stole his breath with each press of the lips.

He didn't even protest as Yuri maneuvered him to lie down flat on the sofa; it wasn't like he minded Yuri's bossiness all that much, although he was too mortified to say just how much he didn't mind it. Trapped under Yuri's weight, sinking into the sofa cushions, pinned down by persistent kisses, Ashe felt a tingle of heat along his spine and pooling in his belly. 

He always liked it when Yuri was close enough to touch, close enough to kiss and hold, but this time it felt like a hunger inside him, an urgent need to draw Yuri in and never let him go. His palms slid along Yuri's back, fascinated by the curve of his spine; one hand sank into Yuri's hair at the nape of his neck, another paused at the small of Yuri's back, where his shirt had rucked up and Ashe's fingers found a narrow strip of exposed skin. It felt like stumbling on something forbidden, even though Yuri's own roaming hands were touching much more sensitive places.

Ashe inhaled sharply as Yuri yanked on the laces of his pants, and everything seemed to pause just then.

Yuri looked at Ashe, something like uncertainty coming over him.

"Nervous?" Ashe asked.

" _Me_?" Yuri chuckled. "I think we both know it's a bit late to worry about preserving _my_ virtue."

"It's not worry, it's just..." Ashe knew Yuri had, on the whole, a lot more experience than him. He also knew not all of that experience had been good. "You can tell me if something's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," Yuri replied immediately. He leaned forward, planted light kisses along Ashe's freckles again. "Nothing's wrong. I was just thinking, I don't want to do this by rote. You're special to me in ways that... former partners were not."

"Okay," Ashe replied. "Alright. Then... look at me." He drew Yuri closer with a hand at the nape of his neck, until their foreheads touched, and they shared the same breath. Yuri lied half on top of Ashe; the sofa was narrow. But the world slowed and faded as they looked at each other, and only picked up again with Yuri caressing down Ashe's body.

"Like this?" Yuri asked in a near whisper.

Ashe gave the tiniest nod. "Just stay here with me."

Yuri's hand slipped into Ashe's pants with the light touch of a pickpocket, but without hesitation. Ashe gasped and spread his leg wider as Yuri's fingers slid along either side of his stiffened clit, delved lower to find welcoming slickness. He felt the shallow, exploratory dip of a finger, and his hips twitched reflexively away. Yuri stilled, waited.

"I-- um--" Ashe had to swallow against the dryness in his mouth. "I don't like anything inside me--"

"Not everyone does," Yuri murmured, and readjusted. He dragged his fingers upwards, spreading slickness slowly over Ashe's clit, and this alone made Ashe's back arch, his toes curl.

He had time to gulp a breath before Yuri's hand began moving, a steady, firm rhythm that set Ashe's blood ablaze. Slow circles at first, getting to know the intimate geography of what he was working with, before he set his palm to Ashe's mound and stroked him in earnest.

Ashe's hips hitched upwards, stuttering movements until he found himself rocking against Yuri's hand, and clenching Yuri's shirt like it was his only anchor. He could feel Yuri's own labored breathing as the latter nuzzled the side of Ashe's face, the crook of his neck. He could see the steady movement of Yuri's arm, and know what Yuri was doing, and Ashe's brain could not wrap around the concept without melting into a boiling puddle.

At one point Yuri turned his head and nipped Ashe's earlobe, and Ashe groaned at how this, too, seemed to shoot across his nerves and straight to the building tension between his legs.

"Maybe," Yuri's lips tickled at Ashe's ear as he spoke, "I'll use my mouth on you next."

Ashe sputtered incoherent syllables in response, his timing thrown off as the need in his belly only seemed to ratchet higher, but he still had enough wits to turn his face towards Yuri and catch him in a searing kiss. Yuri made a surprised sound in the back of his throat, some vulnerable little noise that Ashe reveled in swallowing.

In the tangle of their legs, Ashe could feel the hardness against his hip, and the way Yuri had begun to rut against him seeking his own pleasure. It felt raw and honest in ways Ashe couldn't fully articulate. 

"I love you," he said instead, in-between bruising kisses, "love you, love you," over and over.

Yuri stiffened for a moment, gasped, before his hand began working faster, and the thrust of his own hips grew more purposeful. Everything became harder and more desperate, quicker as they chased their peak. Ashe didn't understand how each time Yuri did something, it seemed to push him higher and higher, but he could feel the sensations starting to crest, and needed it more than he had ever needed anything. He was so close, so close--

The climax shot through him like living lightning, and Ashe shuddered uncontrollably as Yuri worked him through it, wave after wave. The steady stroke of his hand did not stop until Ashe was lying limp and spent and oversensitive. 

Rational thought returned to Ashe slowly, and he assessed his state. His thighs quivered, like his limbs was made of jelly, but he also felt strangely scoured clean. On the inside, at least, because he could feel the mess of wetness in his own pants. What Ashe couldn't feel, anymore, was Yuri's hardness pressing against him anymore.

Yuri, for his part, was sprawled on top of Ashe like a lazy cat, and took his time removing his hand from Ashe's pants, leaving cold streaks against the skin of Ashe's abdomen.

He then proceeded to wipe his hand on Ashe's shirt. It was so absurd, Ashe didn't know if to laugh or chide him.

"Yuri. Seriously?"

"That," Yuri replied, unapologetic, "is you repayment for making me come in my pants."

This time Ashe did laugh.


End file.
